


De Rigor

by Edwardina



Category: Scream Queens
Genre: Barebacking, Dirty Talk, M/M, Necrophilia roleplay, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boone plays dead for Chad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	De Rigor

**Author's Note:**

> Pun intended.
> 
> As for the warnings, if you've seen _Scream Queens_ , you probably know what you're getting into with Chad, here.
> 
> Please note that this was written when SQ was only two episodes in! While it was unwise to write in so many ways, carpe diem. I mean, I haven't written a single word in six+ months, so I went into this with a real kink meme "who cares" attitude. Take it or leave it!

"Dude, your lips are... kinda blue," muttered Chad, before busting into a face-splitting grin.

"Ye-yeah," Boone managed. Honestly, he felt kinda faint, but he pushed his voice out anyway. "N-n-no big d-deal. Y... you like it?"

Beaming, Chad ditched the golf app he was screwing around with on his iPad and hopped up from his bed.

Boone watched hopefully, gaze dipping down the pit of Chad's bare spine and lingering around the promising lack of pastel elastic riding around his waist under his shorts as Chad pulled their standing fan out from the corner and positioned it in front of the open window. Then he turned on the mini one sitting on their shared bedside table and aimed it at Boone's bed.

It didn't take long for a shock of chilly late September air sucked in by the fans to grab at the icy water droplets still clinging to Boone's skin and body hair. He winced inwardly, but didn't fight it. His body was past the point of compulsive shivering and shuddering to try and keep him warm.

"Ah, Boone, Boone," sighed Chad, shaking his head. The scene was already starting, even though Boone was just standing in his towel, somewhere between numb and smarting (not to mention slightly hazy) from the ice bath he'd been in far too long. "Can't believe you went through with it, buddy. Guess sharing a room with me, yet not being able to have me, was just... too much for you to handle."

Below the belt, really. But Boone did not protest.

"I can't let anyone find you like this," Chad whispered, voice breaking dramatically. He circled behind Boone and wrapped bare, muscular arms around his middle – which was knee-melting enough that Boone leaned back into him. Chad's skin felt like a hot summer sidewalk compared to his.

As if expecting the swoon, or at least for Boone to abruptly become the victim of a lack of consciousness, Chad crushed him against his chest and literally lifted him inches off the floor. It was effortless for him to carry Boone the few feet toward his bed and dump him onto it.

Boone, who was nothing if not attentive to Chad's preferences, didn't want to make it _too_ easy on him, and went down face-first. He was dead, he told himself firmly. Dead weight. So he didn't bother to try and keep his body from sliding off the side of the bed.

"Whoa, little buddy," Chad warned, grabbing him hard by the arm. "You're not going anywhere."

Boone could hear the delight in his voice, surefire and potent. He bit back his own coy pleasure as Chad bent over his back and hauled him up onto the bed again. Jeez, even the plaid duvet was warm in comparison to Boone's skin. His nipples, already pebbled hard and slightly achy from the ice water submersion, tingled against the fabric.

"Just gonna make it look like you're sleeping, bro," Chad whispered. It was totally over the top for Chad to act so totally caring. Just part of the scene. But some small part of Boone wondered if some small part of Chad really did care about him, and would talk to him like this if he really was dead.

He didn't even breathe as Chad tugged his limbs this way and that, hands hot on his clammy skin, and managed to flip him half over like a ruined pancake. The towel Boone had tucked around his waist came off mid-shove, and though a sharp shiver of excitement tore through Boone at the chilly air on his prick and the fact that he was now naked and Chad was planting a knee between his, he managed to keep his face slack and his eyes half-lidded, projecting as much emptiness as he could.

"Shit, Boone, you really pussed out. Sleeping pills in the bathtub," muttered Chad, pushing at his arm. "What a lame way to go. Could've at least bloodied up the place. ... Eh, whatevs. You still did it, just like you said you would, and for that, I commend you. Here. Here's your stupid frog. You never sleep without it. Probably be buried with it."

The green stuffed animal that had been with Boone since kindergarten – and ogled boys with him on the downlow since fifth grade – was shoved into his arm pit. With his arm being tucked, slack and heavy, across his frog, Boone stared past Chad's bare shoulder and through the frat ceiling, into unfocused nothingness, trying not to blink or move at all while Chad surveyed and arranged him. In the relative silence, voices from downstairs filtered in, but they were distant white noise that couldn't penetrate the taut, thickened air that hung around them.

"Fuck, you're so cold already, Boone," Chad finally muttered. He was doing a pretty good grief-stricken, I-might-just-cry kind of thing with his voice, really hamming it up, but Boone could hear that he was impressed. Not just impressed, though. Riled. He shoved his other knee against the inside of Boone's thigh and said, "Fantastic. Look at you, dude... legs wide open for me." A chuckle. "Dying for me to fuck your ass in life, begging me to pound it in even death."

Chills crept up both of Boone's bare legs, prickling his nearly-numb skin. It was the way the cold night air was moving over his body. The warring prickle of body heat so close by. The mere idea of Chad in him.

If he could've, he would've begged. But Chad thought he was kinda needy and shit already, and didn't really like him making much noise if they were fucking around, even if he wasn't dead. Boone couldn't help it, though. He was internally whimpering, pleading on a loop: _Yes. Oh, God, yeah, Chad, fuck my ass. You're so god damn hot. Fuck me...!_

"I'd never do it, little bro," Chad informed him intently, shaking his head. Boone's lifeless state didn't allow him to look wherever he wanted, but it kinda felt like he was being stared at with crazy eyes. "I'd never do that shit to you if you were alive. You'd just want it too much. I couldn't have given my best bro the false hope that I'm just super deep in the closet. I'm not. But. Now that you're more lifeless than a roofied K.K.T. pledge... I definitely wanna stick my cock in that ass. 'Cause you're dead, bro. You know what that does to me."

Somewhere along the way, Chad's voice had dropped to a whisper, and he'd started unbuckling his belt, and Boone's dick had chubbed even though he was still so freezing it didn't seem possible he was getting blood flow. All he could do was hope that Chad would ignore it, rather than let it ruin the pretense that Boone had gone to pretty extreme and unpleasant lengths to achieve.

On pins and needles, but still as a statue, Boone stared at the ceiling, following what Chad was doing by sound alone. A drag of the drawer, hasty rustling; he was after Boone's lube. Something else in the other drawer... a box of condoms, ubiquitous yet ever-changing. After a beat, the box was discarded again. There was no familiar crinkle.

"It's not like you'll get knocked up," Chad muttered with a grin.

For a second, Boone hesitated, wondering if he should reach out and grab Chad by the wrist. Chad had boned dozens of girls since the two of them had become roommates. Even though he always used a rubber with his one-night-stands, he didn't have to with Chanel My-Pure-White-Asshole-Doesn't-Need-Bleaching Oberlin, and Boone didn't know where else that skank had been.

But the flicker of uncertainty about S.T.D.s was nothing compared to the promising click of the cap on the lube.

"Wonder if rigor mortis has set in," scoffed Chad, shoving a wet finger up Boone's ass with no gentle finesse or consideration.

Boone struggled to keep a squeak of mired discomfort and harsh arousal from escaping his lungs.

"Holy shit, Boone – your core body temperature is... fuck!"

It was obvious Chad was totally shocked. Boone, who had been worried the effects of the ice cube he'd slid up in there in the tub wouldn't last long, felt one corner of his slack mouth tick up for a beat before he caught it.

"God damn," Chad swore under his breath, pushing his finger around in Boone's ass for a few seconds before yanking it out again and shucking his shorts down.

Quickly – far more quickly than Boone was used to, even when Chad did deign to slum it with him – Chad was shoving his thighs further apart and pushing his cock into his ass. Holding back everything in him that wanted to sputter and cry and huff out at the sudden and searing bloom of pain, Boone stiffened reflexively against the mattress – but he made himself go gradually limp on the bed again, coaching himself: _Dead. Dead. You have to be total dead weight. Limbs heavy. Ass open. Getting used by Chad. Nothing you can do about it._

Despite the demanding stretch, his cock was achingly full, now, jutting up towards Chad's belly as Chad rocked into him in a few short stabs, forcing his insides open so he could get to pounding him without reservation or mercy, huffing – but Boone was dead. His legs were open so wide around Chad's humping pelvis that his feet and calves hung clear off either side of the bed. His breaths were so soft and tiny that they were totally invisible and inaudible, at least compared to Chad's excited grunts and groans and incessant talking.

"Dude... fuck, you're cold... I wonder how long I can keep you like this, so I can fuck your tight little ass morning, noon, and night... you'd love it, huh, if I kept your body and used it to dump my load in whenever I wanted..."

He didn't groan back or grab Chad's ass eagerly or beg for just such an arrangement while hiking his knees up to his shoulders. He just blinked blissfully with heavy eyelids when he was sure Chad wasn't looking at his face, a slave to the feeling of his bro's bare, slippery dick stroking his insides, filling him up, nailing his ass into the mattress. _Dead_ , he kept thinking. _Dead and in fucking heaven._

He stiffened again when someone pounded on the door, but Chad totally jerked back, grabbing in futile panic at his dropped trou with one hand, although he stopped just short of yanking himself totally out.

"Radwell! Boone! Where the hell are you, bros! It's Thirsty Thursday!"

The doorknob rattled. Chad let out a sharp sigh when he realized the door was locked.

With his roomie's attention diverted, Boone's slightly blurry stare shifted so he could see if Chad was tempted by the promise of booze.

His expression was annoyed, flustered; if he'd been balls-deep in a girl, Boone knew he'd make no secret of the fact that he was getting laid and would be reaping a rewarding harvest of back slaps and high fives for days. But he was fucking a dude who was pretending to be dead, and that was a reputation killer. 

"Yooo," the voice repeated. "You in there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be down in a minute," Chad called. He was panting, but somehow sounded bored, like there was nothing more pressing going on than an inability to decide which sunglasses went best with his cardigan.

"Where's Boone?" the voice on the other side of the door wanted to know.

"I dunno," called Chad, then abruptly thrust into Boone, smirking. "Out somewhere getting fucked, probably."

A chorus followed, while Boone struggled to hold in a moan.

"Boone?"

"You serious?"

"Boone's got a chick? Since when?"

Chad was shamelessly fucking him now, like the momentary scare had fueled the fire of his fantasy all of a sudden; he knew Boone wouldn't let out a single noise and give them away. Heat flooded Boone faster and more potently than a shot of tequila. The guys on the other side of the door had no clue Chad's cock was currently crammed in his ass. God, he was gonna unload buckets, he could feel it – it was alive in him, burning and close and tight in his balls, being pummeled out of him –

"I told you guys, Boone's a poon-hound," Chad panted, grinning; he was either enjoying the performance he was giving or the fact that Boone was motionless and taking it. Probably both.

"Dude, Chad, who's he banging? One of the Chanels?"

"I dunno! Go round up the others, guys! No way I'm gonna bag a slut smelling like Kappa pussy. I'll meet you downstairs after I change."

"You heard the man..."

With that, Chad flattened himself right down along Boone's torso, crushing him to the mattress with his weight. He let loose, pelvis slapping Boone's, the bed creaking and stuffed frog croaking... and croaking... and croaking... as Chad muttered, "Yeah, you're speechless, huh, Boone? But Froggy loves watching you get drilled by my big – straight – dick – nngh! God, I'm gonna come, little bro. Leave you soaking in Dickie Dollar Scholars jizz."

Boone's eyelids fell shut under the wave of desperation flooding him. It was all he could do not to whimper. As soon as he could, he pried them open again to fix his stare at the ceiling, unable to see straight and not really taking in anything other than Chad.

"Maybe when I get home I'll have some drunk bitch hanging off my arm and I'll tell her you're asleep. That you're a deep, deep sleeper. And I'll fuck her right here in the room while my come leaks out your ass. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll climb right back on you and fuck your corpse some more, Boone – dead fuckin' body's my own personal come dump – argh! Fuck! Ahhh, yeah!"

Chad wasn't ever quiet about it when he blew his wad, and right then, he wasn't exactly gentle, either, grabbing Boone's headboard and jamming himself in deep as he growled and groaned like a porn star and his balls strained, smushed hotly right in the crack of Boone's ass. Imagining he could feel the hot tickle of Chad unloading deep in his belly, Boone froze, trying desperately not to lose himself in the wildly peaked tension. His eyes wanted to roll back in his head, but he didn't let them, and didn't dare breathe. His frog gave another mild croak under his arm as Chad's weight shifted onto it, but Boone didn't move a muscle.

After a few beats, Chad leaned back, panting, and regarded his face for a moment, all too alert.

Sweat had gathered at Boone's sideburns. His cheeks and neck were burning. His body heat had soared while Chad had fucked him, arousal and friction warming his core quickly, and keeping himself so dutifully still had been an intense workout all on its own. His feet were only barely still cold. And his cock was drooling helplessly on his own belly.

The illusion was totally shattered.

Still, Boone held on tight to the role, holding his breath and not moving a muscle, his eyes glassy and unfocused and unblinking, till Chad sighed and unceremoniously rolled off him, immediately hiking his shorts back up and heading for the dresser to find a shirt.

The sudden lack of Chad all hot and hulking over him left Boone totally naked to chilled night air sweeping over his flesh, not to mention his cock hard on his belly, his wide open thighs, and his asshole all sticky and soft. He felt empty, and he knew that, really, Chad did, too. If bar crawling and drunk slut hunting wasn't imminent, Chad might've hung around for a minute beside him, looking slightly put out that Boone was neither a chick nor a corpse. But there would be no cuddling, no offer of a friendly hand. For Boone, it was blue balls till Chad told him to go jerk off elsewhere.

"Gonna miss you at Thirsty Thursday, dude," panted Chad, pulling on a fresh polo and examining himself in the mirror as he tucked it in. "I'll pour one out for you."

Boone took the opportunity to exhale painfully slowly, breathe in the cool campus air just as gradually, and blink.

When Chad turned to him again, he was half smiling, and Boone wondered if he'd call the scene – come over and slap Boone playfully upside the head and say, _Dude, you can't keep pretending you don't like playing dead for me. Your nine iron? All up on my six pack. I know you fucking love it, all right?_

Instead, he grabbed the extra blanket over the end of Boone's bed and tossed it up his body, covering him to the chest. The fabric tented gently over his dick. One of his bare legs totally stuck out from beneath, but neither Chad nor Boone moved to nudge it back up onto the mattress. And instead of reaching out to slap at Boone's head or mess up his carefully-coiffed curls, Chad brushed a hand down his face. Boone got it. He shut his eyes as Chad's fingers swept along his eyelids, blocking out the somehow too-friendly face that hovered over him.

"You should look like you're asleep," whispered Chad. "That way no one will suspect anything."

In light of his huge fucking boner, Boone could have begged to differ, although he was too well-fucked to be truly bitter.

"Later, bro," sang Chad, unconcerned, opening their door to the sounds of their frat brothers talking loudly and someone down the hallway bumping Kendrick Lamar. It was only for a moment. He shut it after himself, leaving behind the scent of freshly-sprayed cologne.

For a minute, Boone just inhaled, both so he could finally breathe freely and so he could douse his senses with what remained. If he couldn't touch Chad in bed, the least he could do was smell him while feeling the way his body had been opened up and used by him – the hottest guy Boone had ever met, and his best bro. The designer fragrance mingled with the somewhat muffled but still obvious, sharply musky smell of ass-fucking that was trapped under the blanket.

Outside, there was a whoop; Chad had joined the group heading out for Thirsty Thursday, and some cheering had ensued at his presence. Boone could hear his voice booming enthusiastically, even amongst all the others, corralling them into a Dickie Dollar Scholars chant.

After a longing-filled lag, Boone shoved the blanket down and grabbed his flushed cock, desperately jerking it even as he kept his legs spread wide, just as Chad had left them. His mind clung to the close-by sensations of Chad's dick in his ass, that tight demanding jackhammering that was so self-centered. Boone was nothing but a hole, but way better than a blow up doll, and the closest thing Chad could get to his fucked-up fetishes.

Boone should have hated everything about it. But he didn't. He was the only one who could give Chad what he really wanted, even if Chad only accepted it when Chanel was being a bitch and even then didn't want to actually be reminded he was doing it with a dude.

It took him less than a minute of feverish stroking to blow his load, and oh, god, did he wish Chad was still inside him, hard and hot and bare, stoking him to flame from the inside. It would've been unbelievable to come like that, just because of Chad... 

With his load cooling quickly on his belly, Boone got ahold of himself.

That wasn't going to happen.

But maybe if Chad got back and discovered Boone was exactly where he'd left him – legs open, frog under his arm, flesh gone cold again from the nippy autumn air – he'd be the one crawling into bed with Boone for once.


End file.
